


ride or die

by c0wb0yc0rpse



Series: NSFW ABCs--Red Dead Redemption Style [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canon doesn’t exist here, Daddy Kink, F/M, Fluff and Smut, I am Arthur Morgan's number one simp, Making Love, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love, canon? Who is she? Never met her., i am daddy kink trash, i am so thirsty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0wb0yc0rpse/pseuds/c0wb0yc0rpse
Summary: A compilation of works derived from the NSFW Alphabet Challenge centered around Arthur MorganBasically, it's a completely self-indulgent compilation of reader insert fics that have done nothing to quench my thirst for Arthur Morgan.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s), Arthur Morgan/Reader
Series: NSFW ABCs--Red Dead Redemption Style [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136291
Comments: 13
Kudos: 59
Collections: NSFW ABCs





	1. afterglow

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by an orphan account who did the same challenge. The story is called "nsfw alphabet. (arthur morgan edition)" Go and read it, it's phenomenal. 
> 
> Anyways, here's a bunch of decadent sin featuring my favorite cowboy. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think of my work, and comment which Red Dead Cowboy that you'd like for me to do this challenge for.
> 
> Give me suggestions/writing prompts/headcanon requests on my tumblr @c0wb0yC0rpse

**A is for Aftercare**  
(What Arthur is like after sex) 

“Cum for Daddy,” Arthur murmurs in your ear as he rolls your swollen clit between his calloused fingers. You whine, trying to get away from the sensation--it feels good, but your cowboy has already wrung five orgasms out of you, and you think your soul might leave your body if you topple over the edge again. “One more for me, Darlin’, you can do it for me, I know you can,” he trails kisses from the hollow behind your ear and down the side of your throat, his stubble scratching at your skin in the most delicious way. He snaps his hips harder into yours, driving his cock as far into you as it can possibly go. You feel so hot, so full, so  _ good _ . That familiar coil of heat begins to build in your core--you’re helpless to deny his request. 

“Fuck,” he groans, feeling your vice grip around him clamp down even harder as your pleasure builds. His unoccupied hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise--black and purple marks in the perfect shape of his splayed out fingertips. He pulls your limp body down into each thrust. The fingers on your clit move faster, and before you can even register that it’s happening, you topple over the edge. 

It’s so hard and so fast that you’re lost in pure pleasure. Behind your eyelids, you’re in the cosmos, flying through the vast expanse of exploding stars. Your body shakes violently, clawing at your lover’s back, leaving raised red lines in their wake. You don’t even realize that you’re screaming loud enough for all of camp to hear. 

Arthur pants against your mouth in a desperate kiss, doing his best to swallow the sounds you are making, but he knows in the back of his mind that everyone already heard you--they all heard what only  _ he  _ can do to you, and pride swells in his chest. He grows harder than he thought he ever could, and slams into your body a few more times before going completely still, cock twitching madly inside of you as he releases his seed into you with a sound you can only describe as a roar. The sound sends one last shockwave of orgasm through your body--so hard that it almost hurts. You cry out softly when he thrusts a few more times, riding out the last of his orgasm whilst ensuring his spend is as far up into you as it can possibly go. He rests against you, both of you panting, overheated and sated. 

After a few moments, he pulls out of you. You both hiss at the drag of sensitive skin on skin. He sits back on his haunches, eyes looking immediately to your well-used pussy, humming in satisfaction as he watches a trickle of his spend leak out of your hole. 

“If that ain’t the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he drawls, fingers swiping through the mess between your thighs. He chuckles at the whine you let out at the contact, and raises his fingers to his mouth, tongue flicking out to sample the taste of both of you. Your core twitches at the sight. If you weren’t completely certain that a seventh orgasm would kill you, you would have pounced on him right then and there. 

He stretches out on the cot next to you, removing his fingers from his mouth in favor of brushing your sweaty hair out of your face, smiling at you with the brightness of a thousand suns--the smile that only you ever get to see. Your heart swells with warmth, a matching smile spreading across your face as he leans down to brush his lips against your sweaty brow. 

“You did good,” he praises, kissing your cheeks, nose, and chin, “So good for me, my good girl,” his lips find yours, and he kisses you absolutely breathless. When he pulls away from you, scanning your expression, and gives you a serious look, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

“N-no,” you whisper, looping your arms around his neck, “‘m just tired is all,” he grins at you, and gives you one last kiss before moving to stand up. Sweat rivulets trail down his tanned body, lit up by the light of the lanterns. Your breath catches in your throat--you’re never going to be used to seeing just how perfect he is. You’ll never be used to knowing that he’s yours. You’re the luckiest woman in the world. He feels your gaze on him, and he turns to you, giving you a sly little grin. It makes you giggle slightly, and his smile grows. 

He turns and walks to the bedside table and opens a fresh pack of cigarettes, pausing for a moment to look at the collectable card inside. He puts the cigarette in his mouth while he places the card back onto the table and then moves to grab a match from the box, swiping it quickly against the table before bringing the flame to the tip of his cig. He takes a deep drag once it’s lit, waving the match to blow it out before he tosses it to the ground.  He then moves to the trunk at the end of the cot and opens it, grabbing two clean rags. He quickly wipes himself down, throwing the now-soiled rag onto the ground before grabbing another. He returns to you, placing the lit cig in your mouth, and gets to work cleaning you up. You puff at the cig as he gingerly wipes up all the sweat on your body, then swipes at the mess between your legs, gently shushing you when you whimper at the abrasiveness of the rough cloth against your clit. 

When he deems you clean enough, he throws the cloth on top of the other on the floor, and climbs back into the cot with you and gathers you to him, kissing the top of your head as he plucks the cig from your lips. He smokes while you get comfortable. You tuck your head under his chin, inhaling his scent as you curl into him further. 

“I love you, Daddy,” you whisper as your eyes droop shut. He gives you a slight squeeze and rests his chin on the top of your head. 

“I love you too, Darlin’.” You kiss the side of his neck once, twice, three times before you doze off, listening to his sweet nothings and the sound of his beating heart. 


	2. beneath the stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> b is for body part 🖤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two, yay! I loved writing this chapter. It’s just so sweet and loving and asdfgjkrid I just love him so much. 
> 
> Please enjoy, and let me know what you think! I hope you’re all staying happy and healthy!
> 
> Give me suggestions/writing prompts/headcanon requests on my tumblr @c0wb0yC0rpse

**B is for Body Part**  
(Arthur’s favorite part of you) 

You absolutely love nights like these—alone in the wilderness with Arthur, both of you stark naked in the light of the moon, staring up at the stars. 

Once every few weeks, Arthur grabs you in the middle of the night while everyone’s asleep, and loads you up on his horse. That way, you can get out of there without questions or people requesting things from Arthur...and without Miss Grimshaw berating you for abandoning your chores around camp. 

Sometimes, Arthur will book a hotel room, take you to an abandoned cabin, or on nice, warm nights like this one, he’ll set up camp under the night sky. He says it makes him feel truly free. 

It’s so nice not to have to be quiet, to speak freely with no one to overhear. There’s no quick, stolen moments together. There’s no worrying about where he is, or if he’s safe or not. He’s here, next to you, and safe. Plus...you can be as loud as you want when he takes you to bed. You can take your time together, slow, and drawn out—like you both prefer. Arthur loves to take his time with you, thoroughly working you over and satisfying you in every way that he can. 

It’s nights like these that you long for. You wish they could last longer. Just laying on furs under the night sky forever with the man that you love more than anything in this world. No more killing. No more stealing. No more running. Just the two of you and the cosmos overhead. 

You’re shaken from your thoughts when Arthur reaches for you, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss you breathless. You sigh into his kiss, tilting your head so your noses don’t bump together. It’s a lazy kind of kiss—slow, unhurried, but with a heat you’re never quite able to describe when talking to the girls about some of your little escapades with Arthur. 

He pulls back too soon for your liking, laughing softly when you make a sound of protest as you chase his mouth with yours. He grins as he takes your face in his hands, his thumbs softly stroking your cheeks. 

His intense blue eyes stare down at you, flickering over your face before his eyes meet yours. 

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, “I won’t never understand what’cher doin’ with an ugly old man like me.” You snort out a laugh and roll your eyes at him. He doesn’t think much of himself, he thinks he’s too rough looking to be considered attractive, no matter how many women look at him (and men—you’ve seen them checking him out as well), and no matter how many times you tell him that he’s the most gorgeous man to walk the planet. 

“Thirty-five is hardly old,” you reply, gently gripping his wrist as he holds your face, “you know I like ‘em older,” he rolls his eyes at that, but you carry on, “I should be askin’ you the same thing...what’s a good lookin’ cowboy doing with a plain girl like me?” A serious look crosses his face. 

“Darlin’, you’re anything but plain,” his thumb moves from your cheek to your lower lip, his eyes following the movement, “I really ain’t no good with words, but,” he looks away from you, up to the sky, and then back to you, “I’d rather look at you than all of that,” he pulls his hand away from your mouth and gestures to the sky. Your heart flutters in your chest. 

“D-don’t you go sweet-talkin’ me, Arthur Morgan.” The moon illuminates his smile, and your breath catches. Under that rough exterior is a heart made of gold. 

“Oh, it’s ‘Arthur’ now, huh?” he teases, sitting up and looking down on you before effortlessly picking you up and placing you in his lap, “I’m tellin’ the truth, sweetheart, just look at you,'' his eyes trail from your face and down your body, “prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. What’s not to love?” His large hands slide up your thighs and grip onto the curve of your waist, fingers stroking your soft skin. 

“M’ hands fit perfect here,” he gently squeezes your waist, looking down at his hands on you, “like you was made for me,” he looks back up at you and brushes his full mouth against your jaw, “my girl,” your eyes flicker shut as you soak up his words. Heat builds up in your core, and you can feel his hardness against you. You shiver with desire, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

His hands leave your waist, and slide up to your breasts, cupping them gently. You moan at the contact, and you can feel his smile against the side of your throat. He trails kisses down to the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting down slightly. He kisses down your throat to your chest, stopping only when he reaches your rosy nipple. His eyes look back up at you, and his grin is devilish. 

“Beautiful tits, too. Nice and pink,” his tongue drags across your sensitive flesh, making you gasp and grind down into him. 

“Please,” you whisper, back arching as he takes your nipple into his mouth, softly sucking at your flesh. He pulls away after a moment, looking up at you intently. 

“Please what?” His tone is demanding. You whine, but comply. 

“Please, Daddy, need you,” you squirm in his lap, trying to find the right angle for him to slip inside of you. You’re certainly wet enough—you can feel yourself dripping onto his length...and he knows it. He chuckles, deep and throaty. 

“Patience, girl,” his hand leaves your breast in favor of sliding down to your wetness, slipping a thick finger inside, making you cry out sharply, “goddamn, you’re wet...I ain’t even done nothin’.” He mouths his way up from your breast to the hollow under your ear, “so responsive.” His finger curls inside of you, and you mewl. He nips at your earlobe and laughs lowly. 

“Them sounds you make,” he licks the shell of your ear and slowly pumps his finger in and out of you, “so goddamn pretty,” he moves his head toward yours, drawing you into a kiss that is just too  _ much.  _ Too hot, too full of desire. It’s almost unbearable in its intensity. It’s incredible. It’s devastating. It’s duality is delicious. 

Arthur pulls away suddenly, leaving you gasping for air, searching for  _ more.  _ Your hips grind down again, grinding on his finger, looking for more friction. He withdraws his hand, and smacks your thigh. You cry out at the loss of friction, and at the mild pain radiating from the site where he slapped you. 

“I said patience,” he says roughly, “good girls wait for their Daddy,” he grins as he chides you, “now, be a good girl and let me finish tellin’ you how perfect you are.” You let out an impatient whine, and he smacks your thigh again with a growl, “what did I just say?” You let out a breath, your impatience clearly showing. You  _ wanted  _ him. 

“Y-you said to be patient,” you stutter out, gasping when he leans forward to take your lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it in warning, then soothing the sting with his tongue.

“You’ll get what you want,” he says after releasing you, “just a little longer.” He kisses you again, slow and thorough, mapping out your mouth with his tongue. You moan into his mouth, clutching desperately at his shoulders. He breaks the kiss, and his eyes look to yours once again. He grips your thighs tight, releasing one of them in favor of stroking over your lip again with the finger that was inside of you a few moments ago. 

“I could kiss this mouth all day,” he murmurs, smiling when you open your mouth for his finger, “‘s so pretty and sweet...especially around my cock,” he glides his finger over the expanse of your tongue, humming in approval as you swirl it around his digit. Your flavor explodes along your tastebuds, and it gets you even hotter for him—just from knowing what he does to you. 

“There’s a girl,” he praises, grinding his hips up and into yours. You can feel the blunt tip of his cock prodding at your entrance, but you stay still like he asked, even though it’s torture to wait. You squeeze your eyes shut, breathing hard, doing your best to behave for him. “Open your eyes, look at me.” You open your eyes and meet his gaze. 

“Those eyes,” he whispers almost reverently, “my favorite color. Beautiful,” he trails off, brows furrowing as he thinks of how to phrase his next statement. “I just...well...want to see those...up ‘til the end. ‘S all I need.” 

Your heart feels like it’s about to explode in your chest. This man, a notorious outlaw—rough and tumble, gruff and scary—has so much love to give you. the purest love that you have ever known. Quickly, you grab his face and pull him to you, kissing him with all your might. 

“I love you,” you chant against his lips, “I love you, I love you.” He moans, clutching you close as he pushes into you, making you cry out as you’re stretched and filled. Your walls flutter around him, helping to guide him as deep as he can possibly go. 

“Oh, Daddy,” you moan, clawing at his shoulders absentmindedly, “please, need you,”

“I’ got you, darlin”, I got you,” he groans out, rolling his hips up into yours, hitting every sensitive spot inside of you, “Daddy’s got you,” he buries his face in your neck, gripping at your thighs again to pull you down into each snap of his hips. “Love you, love this, need you,” he pants against your skin, pressing kisses between words. 

It doesn’t take long for you to completely fall apart, head thrown back as you yell out his name into the night sky. He growls out his approval, and finishes right at the tail end of your orgasm, pumping you full of his spend. 

You’ve never felt quite as beautiful as you do in this moment—being as one with the man of your dreams under the Milky Way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanons for this chapter:  
> -He thinks he’s an ugly son of a bitch  
> -He supposes his eyes are alright.  
> -He loves your body entirely  
> -He loves the your eyes  
> -Your curves—his hands fit just right on the curve of your waist—like you were made for him  
> -Ass and tiddies, ass ass and tiddies  
> -Your naughty bits


	3. climbing the peak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> c is for cum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically this part of the challenge is to write about anything to do with cum. The creator of the challenge mentioned that they made this one because they are disgusting. Honestly same, considering I wrote this fuckery...
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy this filth!
> 
> Give me suggestions/writing prompts/headcanon requests on my tumblr @c0wb0yC0rpse

**C is for Cum**

(Basically anything to do with cum)

There are many things that Arthur Morgan loves to do in his spare time--fishing, hunting, sketching in his journal, spending time with you, going on aimless rides with you to see what interesting things you two can find...and bringing you to orgasm over and over and over again. 

When he’s not running errands or going on whatever missions Dutch orders him to go on, he will find any and every excuse to pull you away from whatever you’re doing to get you alone (you both think you’re sneaking away without being noticed...but everyone knows and they joke about it all the time), and go to town on you--bringing you to ecstasy with his deft fingers, sinfully skilled tongue, or that absolutely incredible cock of his. You don’t mind a bit, you’re just as hungry for him as he is for you. You reciprocate when he lets you, but he usually saves his own pleasure for when the two of you retire to your tent, and you’re a trembling, soaked mess. He loves it long and drawn out. Needless to say, your favorite time of day is bed-time. 

It isn’t long after you get into the relative privacy of your tent before he’s practically tearing your clothes off and pushing you onto your shared cot and just going for it. His desire for you knows no bounds, he just  _ wants  _ you. He loves being the only one to have you like this, to make you a moaning, sweaty lump of a person. 

“Fuck,” you whimper, clutching his honey-colored hair in your balled up fists as he drags his tongue over your absolutely soaked slit, flicking the tip against your engorged clit. It’s sweet torture. You’re oh-so-sensitive, nearly to the point of too-much after the third time of reaching your peak, but there’s no way in hell you’re going to put an end to this, 

“Please, ‘m close, Daddy,” you beg, grinding your core onto his face. He chuckles, deep and low, and the vibration of the sound against your sensitive flesh makes you heave. He loves it when you beg for him. He slips a finger into your pussy, curling his finger in a come-hither motion against the bundle of nerves inside of you. His blue eyes flash upwards and meet your desperate gaze, and he grins, sucking your clit into his mouth. That’s all it takes. 

You cum with a choked off moan, trembling thighs clutching his head as your back arches in rapture. He hums in satisfaction, lapping up your juices like he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re a desert oasis. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants as you come back down, quickly sitting up and climbing up your body, “almost came from how pretty you are when you cum for me,” his beard is glistening with your wetness, and the sight of it has you clenching around nothing. He grips your thighs, spreading them so he can climb between them, “need inside, darlin’,” his voice is absolutely wrecked, and it’s a heady feeling, knowing it’s because of you. 

Taking himself in hand, he lines himself up, and pushes in, both of you sighing at the slip-side of him filling you. Once he’s fully sheathed within you, he wastes no time, gripping your hips with an almost mean amount of force, withdrawing slightly before fucking back into you. 

“Ain’t gonna last long, baby,” he growls, hips snapping against yours with the filthiest wet slap of flesh against flesh, “got me all riled up with them sounds,” he groans, pulling your limp body into every harsh thrust, “and that, _ah_ , face,” he hauls you up so that you’re chest to chest with him, and you can feel the frenzied beat of his heart against yours. 

“Daddy’s gonna fill you up, darlin’,” he hisses before capturing you in an absolutely filthy kiss that leaves you breathless. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it’s absolute  _ bliss.  _ He pulls away, hips stuttering, nearing his peak. He buries his face in the juncture where your neck and your shoulder meet, and he bites down  _ hard,  _ and you feel the warmth of his release spreading in your core. You fly over the edge again, unable to contain the sound that bubbles up out of your mouth, and it’s  _ loud,  _ somewhere between a scream and a mewl. 

He thrusts weakly a few more times, ensuring that you get all the pleasure you possibly can, and making sure that every last drop of his cum is pushed as far up into you as it can possibly go. He fucking loves stuffing you full of him, it’s absolute pleasure to know that his primal urge to claim you has been fulfilled. He pulls out of you, peering down at where his cum is leaking out of you. He reaches down, gathering it up on his fingers and pushing it back in. 

“Gotta keep it all inside, Darlin’, or your body might forget that you’re mine,” you let out a weak laugh, and sit up, resting your forehead against his.  You’re about to kiss him when you hear cacophonous clapping from outside the tent, and loud laughter. Your face burns crimson, and Arthur facepalms with a groan.

“I didn’t know you had it in you, Morgan! That’s a right pleased lass you’ve got in there, ‘ _ Daddy _ .’” Sean says, howling with laughter at his own quip. You groan, and hide your face in his neck while Arthur practically snarls at Sean to leave you guys alone. 

Oh, boy. You two were never going to hear the end of this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanons for this chapter:  
> -Almost always inside. He is known to sometimes like facials or pearl necklaces  
> -He loves for you to be an absolute mess—covered in him or full of him  
> -Watches it leak out of you  
> -Loves making/watching you cum. The face you make and the sounds you make are *chef’s kiss* to him. He loves to get you off. Your pleasure is his pleasure.  
> -Legit will make you cum until you cry  
> -He’ll still go down on you...even after he cums in you


End file.
